


Tea, Cake, and Pining

by solidburnreturned



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, First Dates, Fluff, Humor, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Pining, Romance, branch is unaware its a date, please help them, theyre both awkward in their own fun ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 14:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15798369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solidburnreturned/pseuds/solidburnreturned
Summary: Branch gets an invitation, but it's not to a party, and it's not from Poppy.





	Tea, Cake, and Pining

**Author's Note:**

> it's me again with that good biggie/branch content :^)

Branch let out a short gasp as a dull pounding sounded from above ground. He glanced up, slightly annoyed by his train of thought being interrupted. Tossing his charcoal nub onto the table, he climbed up onto his chair with a huff and yanked his periscope down to eye level. The small clearing in front of his door was vacant. Odd. Branch was immediately on guard, as he was expecting Poppy to sitting there waiting for him, hooting and hollering for him to come outside like usual. Instead, there was just a small dark blue card on the ground.

“Ugh,” he grumbled, hopping down and trudging over to his elevator. “This new storage room is never gonna get built if I can’t even get the plans written up.”

Once he reached his door mat, Branch prepared himself for whatever Poppy had in store for him. Crushing bear hug, full song and dance number, and face full of glitter were the most probable means of assault she’d utilize. But, hey, this was Poppy. Best be prepared for anything.

Branch opened the hatch and peeked out, frustrated that his tower of black hair, even though it was still shorter than most trolls,’ was still a dead giveaway of his presence. Emphasis on _dead_ , if he wasn’t careful enough. The sun was just barely above the horizon. The forest in front of him had a warm, almost sort of serene glow to it. Branch almost could’ve enjoyed it if he wasn’t so busy being paranoid about what could be hiding in the foliage or the blue card a few feet in front of his nose.

“Poppy?” He barked out quickly. “Poppy, if you’re out there, come out! You know I don’t like surprises!”

If the pink princess was out there, she was staying put in her hiding spot. Branch let out a growl filled sigh and eyed up the card. Dark blue, sealed with a small pink heart. His name was written in purple glittery puff paint in a handwriting he didn’t quite recognize. Poppy’s was neat, but a bit blockier than this. Branch squinted, his suspicions rising even more.

He raised himself out of his bunker a hair more, resting his arms on the grass. “Who’s out there?”

The silence stretched on until it was interrupted by an agitated groan from Branch. He swiped the card up and ducked back into his bunker, locking it up tightly before riding back down to his desk below. The card was held at arms length, like it was some snarling creature striving to get at Branch’s face to take a chunk out of him. He plunked himself back down at his seat heavily. Whatever was in this card had better be good to give him that amount of stress so early in the morning. Though, he wasn’t expecting much. A loud, obnoxious party invite, most likely. Maybe a pool party, even.

Scooting just a bit to the left to avoid a full blast of glitter or confetti to the eyes, Branch flicked the heart sticker away and let the card pop open. A small pop-up of of a slice of chocolate cake and a cup of tea in fancy china sprang up with a _fwip!_ A single pink heart on a spring danced between the two jollily. Branch raised an eyebrow as a squeaky, shaky voice started to play from the card:

“ _H-Hello, Branch! I hope you’re doing well this morning! I was just wondering if you’d like to perhaps come to my pod for cake and tea this afternoon. Bring whatever you’d like with you! If you accept, come by around one today. Hope to see you here! Your friend, Biggie._

And with the final word, a little pop-up of the large blue troll sprang up above the previous two, a wide grin spread across his felted face. Branch stared at it, dumbfounded. He’d never been invited to anything like _this_ before. Heck, he’d never been invited to anything by Biggie at all. The giant troll did not talk to Branch much, and Branch didn’t speak much to him either. Usually Branch was too preoccupied telling Poppy to quiet her parties down and to quit shaking the whole forest with the village’s idiotic dancing to give Biggie more than a glance. However, the few times he had gotten to speak with Biggie, he’d been surprised by how much he actually didn’t mind it. Biggie didn’t seem to see Branch as a paranoid weirdo hermit, or at least he kept it well hidden if he did feel that way. Generally he would just ask Branch how his day was going, encourage him to come sing with the group, or offer up that weird Mr. Dinkles thing up for Branch to pet. And every time, without fail, Branch would feel his face heat up when they made eye contact, his palms and forehead would start to sweat when Biggie gave him a big grin, and (god forbid) if Biggie would manage to snatch Branch up during an unexpected hug time, his stomach would fill with butterflies and his knees would be so much like jelly he would be grateful that Biggie would be lifting him off the ground in the embrace. Biggie turned Branch into more of a mess than he liked to admit.

Branch nudged the card closed and hummed thoughtfully, resting his chin in his palm. He’d never been invited to something like this before. Quiet, private, maybe even relaxed? With good food? It almost made Branch suspicious. Maybe it was some kind of trap. Poppy would be waiting there with Biggie with some big surprise party for him, full of lasers and foam and bergen-attracting music. And there Branch would be, made out to be a fool. Or a jerk. 

Then again, Mid-day seemed like a weird time for Poppy to throw a big party. And she usually would just invite him herself, convinced she’d somehow get him to show up. She wasn’t really one for trickery. Too confident in her own abilities. Biggie also didn’t seem like one to have a big party in his pod. He was much more timid, even cautious, than the other trolls. There was a fair chance that this actually was just an invite to a quiet afternoon snack. Branch huffed, knowing that _not_ knowing would just drive him nuts the whole morning. He’d go, see if it was for real or not, and if it was just Poppy and one of her big bashes, he’d retreat back to his bunker before she could drag him into the danger zone. If it was really just Biggie with cake and tea...then maybe he’d stay for a few minutes. Give or take.

He pushed himself away from his desk and headed to the kitchen. There were some preparations to be done.

\---

Biggie paced anxiously around his pod, rearranging things that had been rearranged probably a dozen times already. He wanted everything to be exactly how it needed to be. The blue troll knew how much Branch liked organization and order, and he wanted to do his best to make him feel comfortable. If he decided to show up. Branch was stubborn, snarky and standoffish, yes, but something about him drew Biggie in like a glow bug to a rave party. His gruff, calloused exterior, independence, his unusual features...it confused Biggie to no end. The urge to hold his dusty, rough hands in his much larger ones...hug him tight at every hug time...make him smile that awkward, goofy smile that comes out once in a blue moon...he couldn’t explain it. But, rather than fight it, he decided to finally do something about it. He thought he was maybe going to pass out when he left that invitation at Branch’s door, and maybe panic for the rest of his life after knocking on his door, but hopefully his fumbling act of courage would prove to have positive results. 

Mr. Dinkles sat at a table full of food, watching the giant troll fumble about the pod. A quiet mew caught Biggie’s attention, making him pause from moving the love seat back another three quarters of an inch for the fifth time.

“What is it, Mr. Dinkles? Did I forget to make anything?” Biggie ran over to the table, looking everything over frantically. “Chocolate cake, blueberry pie, strawberry tarts, apple turnovers, ice cream with all the toppings, chocolate chip cookies, chamomile tea, milk, mixed candy...what else could I need?”

“Mew!”

“ _Mayonnaise?_ What on earth makes you think Branch would want _that?”_

Biggie’s disgust was cut short by two quick, heavy bangs on the door. Biting back a yelp of panic, Biggie ran about the room one last time, trying to get everything perfect before welcoming the grey troll in. He slipped on a record of the quietest, chillest music he owned: just a ukulele strumming a soft tune. Good to have background noise; helps avoid awkward silence.

“...Biggie?” 

“J-Just a minute!” The blue troll called, adjusting his hair and vest in a mirror hanging on the wall.

He turned sharply to Mr. Dinkles and spoke in a low, almost stern whisper. “Best behavior around our guest, Mr. Dinkles. No funny business! Be appropriate!”

“Mew.”

“ _I mean it mister!”_

Biggie tugged the door open, maybe a bit too quickly judging from how much Branch jumped, and gave his best grin. “Afternoon, Branch! How was the walk over?”

Branch shrugged, glancing over to the side. “Fine, I guess.” He gestured to the covered plate in his hands. “I brought this...”

“Oh, how nice of you! Come on in, set it right on the table! Did you make it yourself?” 

Branch nodded, following Biggie into the pod, glancing around nervously. This guy really liked shades of blue and purple, it seemed. The chair in the corner, curtains in front of the window, the ceiling fan, the rug...even the table covered in food and the chairs around it-

Oh, _food._

Branch darted right over to the dessert-filled table, already feeling his mouth start to water. It did, however, make him suspicious that there was so much food for only two trolls.

“We the only ones here?” He asked, a little gruffer than intended. 

“Yep! You, me, and Mr. Dinkles!” Biggie sat himself down next to the yellow worm, gesturing to the seat across from both of them saved for their guest.

Branch eyed the weird worm, setting his dish down on the table and settling into the chair.

Biggie was unaware of how much he was staring at his guest, nervous smile still spread over his face. Branch wasn’t making much eye contact and wasn’t making any advancements to the food. He just shifted around in his seat, arms crossed, cheeks and ears turning more purple by the second. Biggie could feel his own face doing the same.

“Boy! Bit warm in here, isn’t it?” He blurted, reaching up and tugging on the ceiling fan to get it going. 

Branch didn’t respond, choosing to stare at the still-covered dish he’d brought in. Biggie cleared his throat and pointed to the mystery food.

“So, uh...what did you make?”

Branch seemed to perk up a bit, a small cocky smile appearing over his face. “Best thing I know how to make!”

Biggie’s face went from one of excitement to one of shock and horror as branch lifted the cover. What seemed to be a whole grub fried up on a plate sat in front of a very proud Branch.

“Packed with protein, fresh from the dirt. Harvested it this morning. Should still be juicy. I brought sauce, too.” He reached into his hair and pulled out two small containers, one dark and one light. “Mayo is my favorite, but I brought barbecue too in case you prefer that.”

Mr. Dinkles let out what sounded like a smug mew. Biggie swallowed thickly, trying to hide his utter disgust and keep eye contact with Branch instead of with the poor creature on the plate.

“Well! I, uh...thank you! Looks...like you put a lot of work into it!” He snatched up the teapot in front of him and a small cup. “Tea?”

They both sat and ate, Biggie doing his best with small talk. Branch was not the most chatty troll, but he apparently was a hungry troll, at least. While Biggie pretty much word vomited for half an hour, Branch helped himself to both Biggie’s confectionaries and the fried grub he’d brought, nodding and grunting every so often to let Biggie know he was listening. To tell the truth, Branch _was_ listening, very carefully. He just wanted to do his best to not say anything snappish or awkward, so he kept his mouth full and his ears open. 

“Mew!” Mr. Dinkles suddenly squeaked, interrupting Biggie’s story about visiting a puffalo farm. 

“Mr. Dinkles!” Biggie hissed, looking mortified. 

The giant troll glanced over at Branch, who was looking lazily between the striped worm and the giant troll, mouth full of blueberry pie and ice cream.

“What?” Branch said, words muffled through food. “I don’t speak worm.”

Biggie let out a sigh of relief and gave Mr. Dinkles a sharp look. “Don’t worry about him, he just likes to say nonsense whenever he feels like it.”

Branch snorted out a laugh. “Okay, fine.”

Biggie chuckled with him, his smile tight with nerves. Things were going better than he had expected. His mother had always told him the way to a troll’s heart was through their stomach. Biggie wasn’t quite sure if he’d be able to get as close to Branch’s heart as he wanted, being as closed-off and prickly as he was, but he felt like the lunch date was definitely making progress. Time to get gutsy.

“So, Branch! What do you do with your hair to get it like that?”

Biggie wasn’t expecting Branch to get as rigid as he did. “...What do you mean?”

“Oh! Y-You know! So straight! Mine always gets so frizzy in warm weather like this! Yours always looks...so good!” 

Biggie almost let out an audible exhale as he saw Branch relax again. “Oh. Nothing. I leave my hair alone. It’s your best method of defense in an attack. Can’t restrict it with mousse or gel or any garbage like that.”

Nodding vigorously, Biggie poured himself another cup of tea, refilling Branch’s as well. “Have you ever had to use it to defend yourself?”

He scoffed, setting his fork down. “Are you kidding? The forest is full of dangerous creatures that want nothing more than to eat trolls.” The left side of his vest was opened to reveal a long, faded scar over his ribs.

Biggie gasped, large hands going to his mouth in shock. “What happened?”

“Giant spider attack. Managed to get away from the thing, but it still was able to snag me at the last second. Almost didn’t collect the ingredients for the anti venom in time.” He moved his vest back into place. “Your hair can save your skin.”

Biggie paled a bit. Branch was suddenly regretting oversharing. Biggie was a gentle troll, too gentle to hear about these kinds of things. 

“U-Um...anyway, uh...” He shoved another slice of cake in his mouth. “You...like to take photos?”

As Biggie started to go on about Mr. Dinkles’ apparent modeling career, Branch could feel himself start to get more and more antsy. He wasn’t good at being social, he wasn’t good in a conversation, he didn’t pick up on social cues very well, and he DEFINITELY was not an extrovert. That yellow grub across the table was also starting to creep him out. Staring at him with those black eyes...mouth open...he wouldn’t mind frying him up to eat next. He also couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of jealously. He would maybe like to get to receive that amount of attention from Biggie. Have the blue troll put him in fun outfits to model. Get to eat delicious food like this all the time. Sleep in his bed every night. 

...wait, what.

Branch shook his head with a growl in an effort to get it out of the clouds. “Biggie.”

Biggie paused from his ramblings once more. “Hm?”

“Why did you ask me to come over?”

“Well, why wouldn’t I?” Biggie chuckled, picking up a cookie.

Grey fingers drummed on the table. “You know why.”

Biggie shrugged his large blue shoulders, feeling blush creep over his cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t-”

“Biggie, you don’t have to play dumb. You know I never go to any of Poppy’s parties, or anyone’s parties for that matter. Most of your friends don’t really like me, and the whole village thinks I’m crazy. Why do you wanna hang out with me?”

Biggie was visibly sweating as he sipped his tea. “Well...I don’t think you’re crazy, and...I-I definitely like you...and I wasn’t thinking of this as a party, more of maybe a, uh...a da-”

“Mew!”

“What?”

“N-Nothing!” Biggie chirped. “More tea?”

Branch stood up, startled by how shaky his knees were. “Thanks, but I should probably get going.” 

The disappointed look that came over Biggie’s face brought an unexpected pang to Branch’s heart. Purple crept over his cheeks to his ears and he huffed out a resigned breath.

“...and...I guess...I don’t mind hanging out with you.”

The giant troll perked up instantly. “Oh, really? That’s so sweet of you to say!”

“It is?”

“Well, sweet by your standards, anyway.” Biggie stood up and started gathering the leftovers up onto an empty plate. “Thank you for coming, Branch. I had a nice time talking with you!”

Branch dug his toes into the fuzzy floor bashfully. “Don’t mention it. Seriously.”

The sound of Biggie’s warm, genuine laugh made Branch’s heart skip. He liked it much more than the anxious chuckle he’d heard for most of his visit. 

“Here! You can have the leftovers. You seemed to really like the food!”

Taking the large plate into his hands, Branch shrugged with a small grin. “Thanks. Hard to not like your cooking, to be honest.” The plate was tucked up into his hair.

“If you want, we could maybe...do this again next week?” Biggie stammered, following Branch to the door.

Branch’s ears pricked up a bit at the thought. Another afternoon alone with Biggie, eating his awesome baking, hearing him chatter about anything and everything in that accent of his. The idea made Branch’s palms start sweating. 

“Um...s-sure, I guess.”

Biggie gasped in excitement. “Really?”

Hopping out of the pod, Branch nodded, turning back to face the elated troll. “If I’m not too busy or anything, I...wouldn’t mind stopping by. Maybe I could show you some survivalist techniques while I’m here in exchange for the food.”

Fighting the urge to squeal, Biggie lunged forward and swept Branch off his feet in a tight bearhug. “It’s a date!”

Before Branch could choke too hard on the heart that had suddenly leapt in his throat, Biggie plopped the grey troll back onto his feet, gave him a quick wave of goodbye, and shut the door. Branch stood there for a moment, eyes wide with bewilderment and embarrassment, before slowly turning to start heading back to his bunker for some much needed recuperation. 

“It’s...a date...”

**Author's Note:**

> that was gay!! hope yall liked it, whipped this up pretty quick cuz I've really just been craving more from this rare pair, especially with grey branch involved. kudos and comments make me smile!


End file.
